


My Own Tree

by shadowsamurai



Category: V for Vendetta (2005)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evey has lost everything and wonders if she will ever find happiness. Finch has never really known what 'happiness' is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is canon with the film of V for Vendetta. This story starts where the film ends, after Parliament has been reduced to rubble. I got the idea for the story from watching the film very carefully one evening; when Finch tells Dominic what he thinks will happen in the future, there's a snippet where Evey is putting roses into a vase, and there's a mirror behind her. In the reflection of the mirror is a man, sat on a couch, drinking scotch. I think that man is Finch, so here's my idea of how he and Evey reached that point.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

EH-EF-EH-EF-EH-EF

The fireworks had finally stopped, but the rubble that was once the building of Parliament still smoked, smouldered and burned. The soldiers that stood in the streets were at a loss as to what they should do, and the people were finally dispersing.

"So it's all over," Finch stated.

Evey looked at him. "Over, Mr Finch? Far from it; this is only the beginning."

"Beginning?"

"Of course. Now the real hard work starts," Evey replied, staring out over London. "Rebuilding Parliament, the government. Gaining the trust of the population again will be the most difficult thing."

"I suppose," Finch muttered. "What will you do now?"

"Lie low, I think. My work is done. And you?"

Finch gave a small shrug. "Retire, I suppose. If they'll let me."

"Why wouldn't they?" Evey asked.

"I'll have a lot of questions to answer about this whole…thing." Finch turned to look at her. "Will you be alright?"

Evey smiled. "Of course, but will you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can see it in your face, Mr Finch. This business has shaken you more than you would admit," Evey replied, and then an idea came to her. "Would you walk me home, please?"

Finch inclined his head. "Of course."

"Can I ask you a question, Inspector?" Evey said after a while.

"You can. But don't expect an answer," Finch replied.

Evey smiled. "I won't. Why aren't you married?"

Finch sighed. "Married to my job, I suppose."

"Hmm."

They walked for a quite some time in silence, Evey's arm linked comfortably with Finch's. If he disliked the physical contact, he didn't show it. Every so often, Evey would glance around, as though checking they weren't being followed.

"Everybody will be far too interested in what just happened than us," Finch assured her.

"I like to be cautious," Evey replied. "I want V's house to remain a safe place."

Finch stopped suddenly. "V's house?" he repeated.

Evey nodded and tugged his arm to make him start walking again. "He left me everything," she said quietly.

Finch turned his head slightly. "Did - did he love you?"

Evey nodded again, unashamed. "And I loved him."

"Why? How?" Finch asked, then added quickly, "I'm sorry, that was rude."

"Not really. One day, Inspector, I'll explain it to you, if you'd like."

"I have the time," Finch replied.

"You know, it was strange, but looking out into that crowd of people wearing his mask…." Evey shook her head. "I thought I could see people who had died; Gordon, Valerie and Ruth…."

Finch nodded, deciding not to ask who those people were. "I know. I thought I saw ghosts too." The little girl he had 'seen' killed by a Fingerman came to his mind. And then there was Dominic as well. "And some live ones as well."

"We're here," Evey said suddenly.

The first thing that struck Finch when he entered the building was how warm it was. The second thing he noticed was the unusual colour of the stone used for the walls, and thirdly, all of the items in the halls seemed to leap out at him.

"Are these…?"

Evey nodded, smiling. "From the vault of the Ministry of Objectionable Materials."

"Bloody hell," Finch muttered in awe.

"V told me that if the police ever found him, these items would be the least of his worries," Evey said, her hand lingering on objects as she passed him.

Finch stared around the room they had stopped in. "What is this place?"

"This is the Shadow Gallery."

"A jukebox."

There was a catch in Finch's voice that Evey didn't miss; something of admiration and melancholy. "One day, Mr Finch, we'll have a dance," she said with a smile. "If you would like."

He nodded very slowly. "Perhaps. One day."

"Why don't you stay, Mr Finch?" Evey suggested. "There are enough bedrooms, and it might be better for you. Besides, you look like you could fall asleep standing up."

Finch nodded again. "I am quite tired. Thank you, that's very kind."

"Not at all." Evey shrugged. "I could use the company as well. I'll even cook breakfast."

"Alright. Point me in the direction of my bed," Finch said.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

EH-EF-EH-EF-EH-EF

When Finch woke up, it took him a few moments to realise where he was, and why he was so tired. Yawning, he reached over to the bedside cabinet and grabbed his watch.

"Seven am," he said, groaning. No wonder he was tired; he hadn't got to sleep until well after one. Evey had shown him to a small bedroom which was already made up for visitors, and then she had left. But Finch had sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, despite his fatigue, thinking about the night's events, rolling them around and around in his head until they became a jumbled mass. Finally he had stripped down to his shorts and T-shirt and climbed between the sheets.

Now Finch lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. There was no morning light seeping through the curtains, and he found he missed that. Sighing and stretching, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Then quietly as he could, Finch pulled his clothes on, wrinkling his nose slightly and silently hoping he would be able to get home that day to shower and change.

He had no idea which room Evey was sleeping; his policeman's instincts told him it would be V's bedroom. But then again, had V ever slept? Finch knew he would never discover the answer, but it didn't bother him. For some reason, he found his appetite for asking awkward questions and then seeking elusive responses was deserting him.

Finch wandering through the halls of V's house, being careful not to make much noise or to disturb anything. Occasionally he would open a door or two, trying to find a bathroom or the kitchen, but all he found were rooms filled with books or objects.

"You're up early, Inspector."

Finch turned, albeit none too quickly. "I always am. I wasn't prying."

"I didn't think that you were," Evey replied.

Last night, she had seemed like a large person; tall, towering, almost imposing. But now Finch could see she was only a small, slim woman, who looked very vulnerable in the artificial morning light.

"I was looking for a bathroom," Finch admitted. "And the kitchen."

Evey half-smiled. "Follow me." She led him down a corridor he'd already traversed and stopped outside one of the doors he hasn't opened. "Here. I'm afraid there are no razors or other amenities for you to use."

"I'm sure I'll manage."

"When you've finished, just follow your nose and your ears," Evey told him. "They'll lead you to the kitchen."

"Thank you," Finch replied.

Evey stopped before entering the kitchen. This was the second place she had encountered V after he had rescued her; it was the first morning he cooked her breakfast, and the first time she had noticed any part of his burnt skin. Evey never thought about it at the time, but her unsurprised, not shocked reaction to V's scarring must have surprised him. She was certain it would have surprised anyone else.

Humming slightly, and making a mental note to switch the jukebox on later, Evey began to move around the kitchen, finding items for breakfast for herself and Finch.

Finch felt better after rinsing his face with water and he made his way to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. If he hadn't known any better, he would have said that Evey had spent a lot of time in the kitchen; she seemed to know exactly where everything was, hesitating only once or twice.

"I hope you made enough," he said quietly, not wishing to startle her too much.

Evey jumped anyway. "Sorry, I was miles away. Are you hungry?"

Finch nodded. "Can I…help?"

"Can you make tea?" Evey asked, and he nodded. "Do you like tea?" He nodded again. "Good. The kettle is there, the teapot there and the teabags in there. Thank you."

"Did you sleep alright?" Finch asked hesitantly. He didn't know this woman, only what he had discovered during his investigation of V, but he didn't want to feel awkward in her presence.

Evey shrugged. "I suppose." Then she shook her head. "But it was strange, you know? Waking up, knowing that V is…."

"What will you do now?" Finch said quickly. He knew he had asked the same question last night, but he wondered if the answer was different this morning.

Evey shrugged again. "I don't know. I was going to lie low, but now I think…in a way, I want to help continue V's work. If I can."

Finch poured tea into two cups carefully. "How?"

"I have no idea, Inspector. Do you like eggs?"  
"Yes," Finch replied, and watched as Evey put two slices of bread, with egg in the middle, on a plate for him. "What's this?"

"Apparently, it's called eggy-in-the-basket," Evey said, putting more bread and egg into the frying pan.

"Did he make it for you?" Finch asked after a while.

Evey nodded. "But so did Gordon."

"Gordon…Deitrich? From BTN?"

"Yes. He…he died."

Finch bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"These things happen," Evey replied, her tone far too clinical for Finch's liking. "What about you, Inspector? What will you do?"

"As I said last night, it all depends on what my superiors make of my conduct," Finch replied, with no small amount of self-loathing.

Evey looked at him, properly for the first time that morning, and she saw a lost man, though she knew he'd never admit it. Finch's face was deeply lined and there were bags under his eyes, making him look far older than Evey suspected he was. His eyes were haunted, and she suspected that it had been a long time since a smile touched his lips.

"Perhaps you could help me," Evey said quietly. "I want to go through this house and see exactly what V had." She paused as she took a sip of tea. "It isn't a big house really, but there are an awful lot of things here."

"Miss Hammond…."

"Evey, please."

"Evey," Finch continued without blinking, "There were some doors that I didn't go through…I had the feeling they didn't lead to rooms."

Evey tilted her head slightly and looked at him. "Perhaps along the way I will give you some answers. And perhaps you can help me find some."

"Maybe…Evey…we can help each other," Finch said.

She smiled at him. "Maybe."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

EH-EF-EH-EF-EH-EF

Finch lost track of time as he and Evey catalogued the items in V's home. The policeman was continuously surprised by what they found, though he didn't know why. After what V had done, Finch would have been moderately disappointed if there wasn't at least one forbidden item in the house.

He had been back to his own house - it had never been a home for him - only once and that was to collect his clothes. One day, when things had settled down, he would probably sell it and buy something smaller.

He and Evey would take turns in going out for shopping, but they were never out longer than needed. Things were still very chaotic, but slowly, the country was starting to right itself. A new government was being put together, but it was difficult sorting through all the corrupt members of Parliament, and some of Sutler's followers were proving difficult to get rid of.

"Where do you want these books, Evey?" Finch called.

"In here!"

Finch rolled his eyes. "Where is 'here'?"

"Sorry. I'm in the third room off the Shadow Gallery," she replied.

Finch picked the box up and carried it out of the room. The jukebox was playing quietly in the background but he didn't pay much attention. They had listened to every song easily more than once, not that Finch couldn't really remember any of them.

Evey watched the policeman as he entered the room. He was still wearing a shirt, but without a tie, and his sleeves were rolled up. His face still looked drawn and aged, but Evey thought the dark circles under his eyes were slowly disappearing.

"Thank you, Mr Finch. You can put the box down there."

After a lengthy discussion, Finch had persuaded Evey to stop calling him 'Inspector'. He had suggested that she call him Eric, as it was his name, but Evey didn't feel comfortable enough with that.

"Are you sleeping any better?" she asked.

Finch shrugged slightly. "A little. It's nice not to be woken up at all hours of the night, that's for sure," he replied. "What about you?"

"I still find it strange not seeing V in the mornings," Evey admitted.

"Do you…sleep in his room?"

Evey shook her head. "No. Does that surprise you, Mr Finch?"

He shrugged again. "I suppose not. Did V even sleep?"

"I don't know. His room, though, is down the hall." Evey looked at the policeman. "Would you like to see it?"

"Alright."

The room was just like any other in the house, except for the dresser with a three-paned mirror and a collection of masks. Finch looked around and saw a tall wardrobe flanked by bookshelves; he had a hunch that if he looked in the wardrobe, he'd find it full of black clothes and long cloaks.

"I tried to sleep in here once," Evey admitted quietly. "I was missing V and I thought that it might…never mind. You'll think I'm daft."

"You thought it would make things easier," Finch said. "And it didn't."

Evey shook her head and looked at him. "No, it didn't."

"Is it more or less difficult for you, being in this house?" Finch asked.

Evey gave a small smile. "A little of both. Tell me, Mr Finch, do you feel like a tour?"

"If you want to give me one."

For only the second time since their peculiar friendship had started, Evey linked her arm with Finch's and led him slowly around the house. He had seen most rooms, of course, but he suspected the purpose of this was to do with the sharing and finding of answers Evey had suggested.

They had never discussed their living arrangements; Evey had said Finch could stay for as long as he wished and that was it. Sometimes they would spend all day together; other times their paths would never cross. Sometimes they would never talk at all, and while there was still a great deal they didn't know about one another, they had grown quite comfortable in each other's company.

"V used me to gain entrance to Bishop Lilliman," Evey said quietly and suddenly. "But I didn't have the strength to stay with V. I didn't understand what he was trying to do. I escaped and went to Gordon's house. He took me in and…well, that's a different story." She paused for a moment. "The night after Gordon's impromptu television show involving the Chancellor, Creedy came to the house and black-bagged Gordon. I was hiding under the bed, and I escaped through a window. But before I could get away, someone grabbed me and took me away.

"I was interrogated, starved, tortured. My head was shaved. I thought my life was over. Then something happened. Through a rat hole in the wall, I received letters from the prisoner next to me, a woman named Valerie who wanted to tell her story before she died.

"Through her I gained the strength to face my own death and one day, my interrogator came for me. Instead of cowering, I stood tall. I was to be taken out behind the chemical sheds and shot."

"I don't see what's amusing," Finch stated sombrely. He had glanced sideways and was surprised to see a smile on Evey's face.

"Perhaps not yet, Mr Finch, but perhaps you will in time," Evey told him. "Anyway, another man came into my cell and told me to give them what they wanted. I told him I'd rather die behind the chemical sheds. When he told me that was it, that I was free and had no fear, I had the first and only twinge of unease; a sense that something wasn't quite right."

"What happened next?"

"The man left, but didn't shut the door, so I went out into the corridor," Evey continued. "I saw a guard, but he never moved. I made my way down to him and I saw that he was a dummy. I carried on and came out here."

She let go of Finch's arm to open one of the heavy doors he had looked at, but never gone through. Beyond was a completely different environment; metal, cold, harsh and unyielding.

"Oh my God," Finch muttered as he wandered around, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. "Does this mean what I think it does?"

Evey nodded from her position in the doorway. She had spent enough time in the cell; she didn't need to see it again. "It does, Mr Finch."

"Bloody hell." Finch turned to look at her, his expression appalled. "Why?"

"I once told V that I was afraid all the time. He told me, when I left the cells, that this," she gestured to their surroundings, "was the only way he could think to help me. To make me fearless."

"It worked," Finch stated.

"Yes. Sometimes I wish there had been another way; sometimes I hated him for what he did to me."

Finch stared at her. "But you loved him."

Evey folded her arms across her chest, and while the gesture might have looked defensive to some, the policeman thought it made her appear more vulnerable. "It's difficult to explain."

"Perhaps one day…you might try," Finch suggested quietly.

"Perhaps." Evey then dropped her arms and smiled. "Would you care for some tea, Mr Finch?"

"Yes, thank you."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

EH-EF-EH-EF-EH-EF

"Do you miss the outside world, Mr Finch?" Evey asked one day.

"Sometimes. But it's a different world now, one I'm not sure I belong in," he replied.

"You cannot hide here forever."

Finch looked at her. "Neither can you."

"I didn't have a life anyway. No one will miss me if I do stay here forever; no one will care."

"Do you think my life is, or was, any different?" he asked.

"Would you like to watch a film, Mr Finch?" Evey said suddenly.

Finch looked wary. "What kind?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo," Evey replied.

"Never seen it."

"It's one of my favourite films. You might like it."

"Was it V's favourite as well?" Finch asked as they walked to the couch.

Evey glanced at him. "Yes, but for different reasons."

Finch didn't say anything else, but after the film, he muttered, "Revenge."

Evey nodded. "I always feel sorry for Mercedes; revenge was more important to Edmund than she was."

"Revenge was all V had…before he met you," Finch stated. "He fell in love with you, but revenge had become his life. He knew that you would survive, maybe even flourish in the new world he was going to create, but he wouldn't."

"You're very astute, Mr Finch," Evey said.

He shrugged. "I'm a policeman. It's my job." He turned slightly on the couch to look at her better. "That's why you said to me before that it was complicated, what you felt for V."

"Different circumstances would have meant there could be a chance for V and I," Evey admitted. "But from the moment I realised I was in love with him, I knew it would never be more than my feelings. He was one of the most important people in my life, and I never knew anything about him."

"Nothing?" Finch asked, surprised.

Evey shook her head. "I knew he was tortured, like he tortured me, and that he was in a fire."

"Would…you like me to tell you V's story?" Finch said quietly.

Evey thought about it for a moment. "Yes, please. And after, I will tell you about Gordon."

"Alright." Making sure he was comfortable, Finch started the tale, repeating things almost word for word as he had read them in Delia's diary. He also told Evey of the meeting he'd had with William Rookwood, and how, at the time, he had believed every word Rookwood had told him. When Finch found out Rookwood had been dead for years, he thought V had fed him lies. Now he knew it was the truth all along, but trying to work through all the twists and turns made his head ache.

Evey smiled. "V was a very complex man."

"I won't argue with that," Finch replied, hesitating before he continued. "But he was brave."

"I'm not sure I would agree with that, Mr Finch. V just wasn't afraid," Evey said. "There is a difference."

"Maybe."

"You know who Gordon Dietrich is, or was, don't you?" Evey asked.

Finch nodded. "Of course."

"I worked with him at the BTN, and the first time I met V, I was on my way to Gordon's house for…a late supper."

Finch nodded again. "He had quite a reputation, or so I heard."

"Believe me, Mr Finch," Evey said, smiling, "Reputation was all that it was. Gordon was gay, you see."

"That explains a lot," Finch replied, unsurprised.

"When I escaped from V, the only person I could think of going to was Gordon." Evey smiled at the memory. "He was so good to me. He showed me a copy of the Koran that he had, as well as the painting of God Save the Queen with Sutler as the Queen."

Finch's eyes widened. "I thought Sutler had it destroyed."

"So did he, but Gordon bought it." Evey suddenly turned away. "What bothers me are the similarities between Gordon and V. The first morning I was with V, he made me eggy in the basket, and said, 'Bonjour, mademoiselle.' The first morning I stayed at Gordon's, he made and said exactly the same thing. When I was with V, he said that if the police ever found his house, I would be the least of his worries; Gordon said exactly the same thing."

"I don't believe in coincidences, Evey," Finch stated. "I've been a policeman too long for that."

"There's more. When I was with V, I told him about my parents, about how Creedy black bagged them when I was younger. I remember my mother coming into my bedroom, standing behind the door and telling me to hide. After Gordon's TV show with the Chancellor, Creedy came to Gordon's house." Evey's expression became distant as she recalled the memory. "He came into the bedroom, stood behind the door and told me to hide. I crawled under the bed, just as I had done when I was a little girl, and watched as Gordon was taken away."

"Do you think that V planned it all?" Finch asked carefully.

Evey shrugged. "I honestly don't know. At the time I didn't think anything of it; I was far too busy thinking of other things. But now that it's all over…there are too many coincidences."

Finch regarded her carefully. "Do you think that Gordon is still alive?"

"I think it's possible. I only have V's word that he's dead."

"Do you think V is still alive?"

Evey smiled, albeit somewhat sadly. "V may have been a lot of things, Mr Finch, but immortal was not one of them. He was dead when I put him on the train, of that I am certain."

"Evey, I can't give you any definite answers. I can only tell you what I think," Finch said after a while.

"Your opinions matter to me," she replied.

"Can I ask a question first?"

Evey nodded. "Of course."

"Was there any way that V could have found Gordon?"

"Of course," she repeated. "He found all the people who had tortured him, or who had been a part of Larkhill, didn't he?" Realisation suddenly dawned on her face. "I never thought of that."

Finch frowned. "What?"

"I had a slip of paper with Gordon's address on, and as far as I know, I left it here." Evey smiled. "Thank you, Mr Finch. Now, what were you going to say?"

"If I'm correct in thinking that V wanted you to be unafraid, then it's highly likely he orchestrated everything with Gordon. On the television show, there was a man dressed as V. How do we know it wasn't V?" Finch asked. "I think that coincidences happen as a way of explaining things to us, and I think those that you described to me happened because of you."

"Because V wanted me to be unafraid," Evey stated.

"That would be my opinion, yes."

"An elaborate scheme, don't you think?"

"V spent years planning his revenge," Finch reminded her. "We're talking about a very cunning, patient man. In the grand scale of things, what he planned for you was small."

Evey nodded slightly. "I suppose. But why go to all that trouble for one person?"

"It depends. If you think that somebody is worth it, then nothing is too much trouble," he replied.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

EH-EF-EH-EF-EH-EF

All the time that Finch and Evey spent catalogued and organising V's possessions, Evey never once thought about going 'back to the surface', as she thought of it. Finch had made a comparison once between them and the Morlocks, and she hadn't corrected him.

But it bothered her that Finch was quite happy to stay hidden with her, and she decided it was time to ask him about it.

"Have you come to a decision about your house?" Evey said one day as they were moving paintings around.

Finch nodded. "I'm going to sell it…eventually."

"That's what you said when I asked you about it first. I thought you might have made a more definite decision."

"You mean like when I'm going to sell it."

"Yes. I know you think that you'll be in trouble if you go back to your old life, but I don't see it," Evey said. "After all, nobody knows that you were there with me at the Underground. Nobody knows you didn't try to stop me; only I know that and I won't tell anybody."

"How would I explain to people where I've been for the past few months?" Finch asked.

"Say you were looking for me," Evey replied with a shrug. "Say you were injured in the explosion and some unknown person has been caring for you."

"More like an angel," Finch muttered very quietly, then louder, "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"I wasn't lying before when I said nobody will miss me, and the only people I miss are dead, so it isn't a problem for me to stay here."

"But you worry it's a problem for me," Finch stated.

Evey nodded. "You lived for your job and suddenly you don't have that."

"Maybe there are other things to live for," Finch said softly. "Anyway, if I left, I'd worry about you."

Evey smiled. "And I would miss your company, but I don't want you to feel like you have to stay here."

"Believe me, Evey, if I wanted to leave, I would," Finch replied.

"Good. I'm glad we got that sorted. Now, whose turn is it to go shopping?"

"Yours."

"I went last time."

"No, I did," Finch said.

Evey frowned. "Why do I always seem to go out, Mr Finch?"

"Because you always ask whose turn is it," he replied with a straight face. "You should never ask."

"I'll try to remember that," Evey said, struggling to keep herself from smiling. "Is there anything we need?"

"I can't think of anything." Finch then smiled. "I'll make something to eat when you get back."

EH-EF-EH-EF-EH-EF

They ate lunch together and then disappeared to different parts of the house for the afternoon. About the time the sun should have been setting, Evey came into Finch's room.

"I have a favour to ask you, Mr Finch," she said.

"Okay."

Evey handed him a key. "Please find some way to get rid of this. Throw it away, destroy it if you can, but make sure nobody ever finds it."

Finch took the item, his fingers unintentionally brushing Evey's as he did so. "What is it for?"

"The interrogations cells that V built," Evey replied, turning to leave. "It cannot be converted and nobody needs to go in there ever again."

"Alright. I'll take care of it," he promised.

"Thank you." She paused in the doorway. "Is there anything in particular you would like for dinner?"

"Spaghetti bolognaise?"

Evey smiled. "I even picked up some proper Parmesan cheese while I was out today."

Finch just stared at her like she was a Goddess and she laughed as she left the room. He never asked where she got the money from to buy the shopping, or even pay the bills; some things didn't need answers. But he decided that when he got himself sorted, he would repay Evey for that past few months.

They made small talk over dinner, then Finch washed up while Evey went to sit in the lounge. He joined her afterwards, sitting at the other end of the couch, and they listened to the jukebox playing in the background as they read.

"What was the name of your Sergeant, Mr Finch?" Evey asked after a while, looking up from the newspaper.

"Dominic," Finch replied. "Why?"

"He's been promoted. Chief Inspector. It says here that he's now one of the most senior police officer in London."

Finch nodded once. "Good."

Evey folded the newspaper up and looked at her companion. "Do you miss him?" she asked.

"He was…one of the only people I could call 'friend'," Finch replied. "In fact, he was *the* only person."

Evey caught something in Finch's voice. "And now?"

Finch looked at her seriously, but gently. "And now there's you."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

EH-EF-EH-EF-EH-EF

Evey looked at the clock for the hundredth time at least in two hours and tried not to worry. Finch had said he was going out and that he wouldn't be long; that was being lunch and it was now well after dinner. Evey wanted to go and look for him, but she didn't know where to start.

Despite their peculiar friendship - although it had been no odder than hers and V's - Evey found she had grown close to Finch. It pleased her to see the dark lines and bags from under his eyes disappearing, and his whole posture seemed more relaxed. He talked more, when the mood took him, and Evey found him to be witty and more than a little charming, whether he knew it or not.

She was slowly starting to find her place in the new world V had created, with Finch's help, but that place only existed because of him. It wasn't that Evey had worked her life around Finch; it had just happened. And now, she couldn't imagine that life without him.

Evey had just begun to doze when she heard the front door shut. Immediately alert, she looked around for somewhere to hide.

"It's only me, Evey," Finch called, his voice weary but somehow happy as well.

She crossed the room, stopping close to him. "I was worried about you," she admitted.

Without thinking, Finch reached out for Evey's hand. "I'm alright. I just had a few things to sort out."

"Are you hungry?"

"Haven't you eaten?"

Evey shook her head. "I was waiting for you." Without staying to hear his answer, she turned and walked towards the kitchen, but didn't let go of his hand.

"You should have eaten," Finch scolded her gently, stopping at the fridge so he could pass her ingredients.

"You shouldn't have been out so long," Evey retorted.

Finch looked away. "I'm sorry. I…I had a few things I needed to sort out. They took longer than I expected."

"I see." The last thing Evey wanted was for Finch to share his innermost thoughts with her, but she found herself hating that he was keeping secrets.

"Dominic sends his regards."

"What?" Evey exclaimed, turning rapidly and almost dropping the pan.

Finch moved quickly, one hand grabbing the handle, the other coming to rest of Evey's hip. "Perhaps you should let me cook," he said, slightly embarrassed.

"I think so, especially if you have more surprises like that up your sleeve," Evey replied, sitting at the table. "Right, I'm all ears."

"I decided it was time to sell my house. I've been in touch with a few estate agents over the past several weeks, but no one was interested," Finch explained. "Then the other day, while I was out, one of the agents told me they had a buyer."

Evey raised her eyebrows. "Just like that?"

Finch nodded and half smiled. "That's exactly what I thought. I wondered what the catch was, especially because the bidder was offering over the asking price for the house. Anyway, the estate agent set up a meeting between me and the bidder today. Imagine my shock when it turned out to be Dominic." He shook his head. "I've never seen him look so well; he seems to be thriving out there."

"You miss it, don't you," Evey stated. "And you miss him."

Finch didn't reply for a moment; he was too busy trying to recall how many times they'd had the same conversations, repeated the same things, yet he found he didn't mind.

"Yes, I do," Finch replied, setting two plates of food on the table. "To both. But it's a different world out there now. There's not place for people like us; at least not the positions we were used to."

"What would you do if you went back?" Evey asked.

"Retire. And maybe see if I could find a lady companion to spoil."

Evey look at him, debating whether to say the first thing that had come into her head or not. "You already have one of those, Mr Finch."

Finch let the comment slide, although he knew it was said in all honesty and seriousness. "What would you do if you went back?"

"I think I'd like to teach, or write," Evey admitted. "I don't know how easy that would be, though."

"I have something for you, and I don't want you to say 'but I couldn't possibly'," Finch told her, pushing an envelope across the table.

"I would never say anything so boring," she replied, smiling and peeking into the envelope. "Why?"

"You've supported the both of us for…I don't know how long," Finch said. "I don't know where you get the money from, and I don't want to know. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate everything you've done for me, and this is the only way I can repay you."

Evey nodded in understanding. "There is another way."

"What?"

She stood up and extended her hand. "Dance with me, Eric."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told from Evey's PoV.

EH-EF-EH-EF-EH-EF

I never once thought my life would take this direction. I don't even know how it came to this, really. I think it's true that if you spend so much time about someone, you develop a certain bond with them, but there has to be a basis for those feelings to start on.

I think that's what happened between me and Eric. For months we were only in each other's company, and somewhere along the line, we became friends. I'm not sure how it grew into more; was it when he sold his house? Was it when we finally decided to leave V's home and get a place of our own? Or was it before that? I keep trying to work it out, but Eric says I should leave it. How it happened isn't important, he says; just that it happened is of greatest concern.

And it did happen. Inexplicably, I had fallen in love with Eric Finch. Our relationship was considered quite unconventional by most, not only because of the age gap, but because we didn't act like 'normal' couples did. But we didn't - and still don't - care; we're happy.

I remember the day Eric came to me, solemn-faced, and told me it was time he was leaving, permanently. I refused to cry, but I felt as though my heart was in my throat. A terrible cliché, perhaps, but an apt one. Then he just looked at me and said, "Aren't you coming?"

We bought a lovely two bedroom semi-detached, with large windows so the rooms would always be filled with light. After so long underground, both of us silently agreed that we never wanted to go without seeing the sun or the sky for very long.

And see the sun we did. It seemed to shine bright and for longer now, though whether that was just because Sutler's oppressive reign was over, I don't know. We both enjoy walks in the park now, sometimes holding hands, sometimes just walking side-by-side.

Eric and I spent many long nights discussing the Shadow Gallery. We knew someone would find it eventually, but we were at a loss end as to how to dispose of the items hidden there.

Dominic came to our rescue. He and Eric have become great friends now, meeting up at least once a month for lunch or a pint after work. I think it's good he has at least one friend; he still worries that I'm alone, but I have him, and for now, that's enough. One day, Dominic came to our house, grinning broadly.

He told us that the Ministry of Objectionable Materials had been ransacked; he wasn't specific about how long ago it happened, but it didn't matter. For as long as we wanted, we could leak certain of V's items back into circulation, either by putting them up for auction, or donating them back to the art galleries.

Eric agrees that every time we deliver a bundle of art - we like to leave it on the doorsteps of the museum or gallery so it's a nice surprise when the curator opens up in the morning - that V would agree with what we're doing.

Occasionally we keep the money from an auction; until we're both working, we have to live off something. But mostly it's ploughed back into the community; anonymously, of course.

I wouldn't say that England is now a better place as such; it seems to have gone back to what it was before Sutler, which wasn't perfect but it was far more liveable in. Some things are better, of course, but strict measures are being put in place to try and ensure nothing like Larkhill, St. Mary's or Three Waters ever happens again.

As for me, I'm quite happy with the world now. I know my place in it, I've found a soul mate, and I'm not scared any more. The fact that Eric is sat in the living room waiting for me makes me smile, and I finish filling the vase I'm holding with water.

I still miss V; I think I always will. But whenever I feel like talking about him, Eric listens willingly. He's always there when I need him, but I know I can live without him, and I think that is what makes our relationship so strong.

A flash him a smile as I cross the room, putting a vase of Scarlet Carsons near the fireplace. Eric surprised me by growing them in our garden; I think that was the first time I told him I loved him.

Now, seeing him so relaxed, I say it again. He's sat with one arm along the back of the couch, a glass of scotch in the other hand, his pale blue shirt casual. His face has been free of stress lines and dark marks under his eyes for months now; he blames it all on me.

I cross the room and sit next to Eric, his arm coming around me automatically. I'm still smiling, but I think he seems something in my eyes. Perhaps it's a little sadness or melancholy, because he leans forward, kisses my forehead, and then asks if I'd like to watch The Count of Monte Cristo.

Now I do smile, and I tell him I love him again. He always knows how to cheer me up. I don't actually give him an answer; I don't have to. As the film starts, I snuggle into Eric's side, sighing with contentment. I think it's safe to say I found my tree.

FIN


End file.
